


Novocain

by CountlessStars



Series: Every You Every Me [2]
Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: I Don't Even Know, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:40:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CountlessStars/pseuds/CountlessStars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feelings and stuff and a tiny little bit of sexy times. Also, no happiness.</p><p> <br/>(Don't mind me, I suck at writing summaries.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Novocain

**Author's Note:**

> So...this takes place some time after 'Bleak, Uncertain, Beautiful...' and I really didn't plan to write this. It just...kind of happened?
> 
>  
> 
> Title is from song by Jeremy Messersmith. (If you don't know this lovely musician...well, you should maybe listen to him a bit.)
> 
> I'm terribly sorry for any mistakes!

Aidan frowns at the sky and curses the weather. A couple of months ago, he wouldn’t mind it at all. He wouldn’t care because back then, he didn’t need a sun to lighten up the damp greyness of London.

Funny, he thinks to himself as the cold rain hits his face, how so much can change in such little time. As cliché as it sounds even to himself, Aidan realises he is not the person he used to be.  
His smiles have become a rare sight and he spends far more time alone. His nights are sleepless as often as not and the only thing that keeps him from drinking himself unconscious is simply the fact that the taste of alcohol makes him sick.

Aidan is tired. Tired of everybody, of their are-you-okays and I’m-here-if-you-need-to-talk-about-anythings. He is tired of himself and of his own thoughts, but most of all, he is tired of the pain – sometimes weak and almost indiscernible, sometimes nearly too great to handle, but always, always present.

He pulls up his hood and he heads towards the park.

\---

Aidan doesn’t keep the track of time as he sits on the water covered bench. He stares into the distance, over the pond with swans and ducks and plastic bottles. He doesn’t feel the cold, rain-soaked clothes sticking to his skin.

A couple sheltering under a red umbrella passes by and gives him a long stare, a mixture between curious and sympathetic. He avoids their gaze and shuffles uncomfortably. For a second, he feels naked and vulnerable. He gets up in attempt to shake the awful feeling away. Then his mobile phone rings. He wipes the water from the screen with his sleeve and picks up.

,,Where the hell are you, Aidan? We were supposed to meet at six!” Dean sounds utterly annoyed and Aidan feels a pinch of guilt when he checks the time. Of course, he’s late.

,,Uh, sorry. Where are you?” Aidan asks as he exits the park.

,,Are you kidding me? I’m right at your fucking front door, freezing my ass off and waiting for you to fucking show up!”

,,Oh. Right,” says Aidan, but Dean only makes a disgruntled sound and hangs up.

\---

Aidan fancies he can feel Dean’s exasperation from the very end of the street. He tries to make up a good excuse, but he ends up shrugging awkwardly when Dean questions his late arrival.  
After a few questions, Dean gives up, shakes his head and adds: ,,So, can we go in now?”

Aidan searches in his pockets for keys, his fingers stiff and clumsy from cold. When they enter, Dean pokes at Aidan’s shoulder.

,,You should take those clothes off before you catch a cold,” he says, his voice more gentle and concerned than annoyed.

Aidan stands there, puzzled, as Dean grabs his arm and pushes him towards his room. There Dean opens his wardrobe casually and spends about five minutes looking for something. For what, Aidan doesn’t know.  
Aidan doesn’t bother asking and instead, he proceeds to peel off his wet clothes.  


,,Put on these,” Dean says after a while as he hands a few pieces of clothing to Aidan.

,,We’re going to the theatre tonight, you gotta look nice and impress everyone.” Dean smirks and leaves the room.

After he’s showered and dresses in the clothes Dean had chosen for him, Aidan heads for kitchen, where his friend is sitting with a cup of coffee.

Somehow, the fact that Dean acts like he’s at home here doesn’t bother Aidan as much as it probably should. Dean has something – not exactly charm or charisma, but something – that makes people feel comfortable around him. Aidan is no exception to that rule. When he is with Dean, he feels less alone and he almost forgets about the pain.

Dean is aware of that and does it gladly, even if it means more than half an hour worth of waiting for Aidan in the rainy British weather. 

\---

Aidan is glad he doesn’t have to talk – Dean fills all the silence with his enthusiastic rant. The accent of Dean’s words is pleasant, even though Aidan scarcely concentrates on whatever topic he is talking about.

Dean doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t know Aidan for very long, but he knows enough to not question his strange moods. He goes on with his talk as they get into a cab and he only stops when they find their places in the theatre.  
When the lights go out, Aidan is smiling and thinking that, perhaps, this evening is not going to be bad at all.  


But as he focuses on the actors on the stage, the good feeling flees away in mere seconds.

Later, Aidan remembers absolutely nothing from the play. He spends the rest of it flinching each time Richard appears on scene, his hands curling in fists when he hears the familiar voice.

\---

Dean knows something is wrong, but Aidan resolutely ignores his worried glances. Aidan gets him a cab, practically pushes him inside and upon seeing Dean’s concerned face, he assures him that everything is fine and promises to call him in the morning.

Dean is not convinced, but eventually he closes the cab door and leaves.

Aidan leans towards the wall of the adjacent car park and watches as the last theatre visitors leave. Soon, there are only a few cars left – and one of them, he knows all but too well. 

He knows nothing about the brand, the number of horsepower or the fuel consumption, but he remembers the feel of the soft leather seats are against his skin, the low rumbling of the engine, the way Richard held the steering wheel...

Aidan sighs and digs into his pockets to find a half-empty cigarette pack. He lights a cigarette and inhales deeply to stop his body from shaking. He reaches for another cigarette. As he puts it between his lips, he notices two figures approaching. He recognises Richard before even glimpsing his face.

When they are close enough, Richard notices Aidan and stops hastily. When his colleague shots him a curious glance, he continues as if nothing happened.

,,Okay, my car is over there. Good night, Martin,” Richard turns to the man at his side.

His colleague, Martin, replies and eyes Aidan warily before getting into his own car and leaving.

Only then Richard’s eyes settle on Aidan. 

,,What are you doing here?” Richard asks as he walks closer.

Aidan has, in fact, no idea. But he decides to go with the simple: ,,I went to the theatre.”

Richard raises an eyebrow, but he remains silent. He glances at the cigarette that is now between Aidan’s fingers and he reaches into his coat to find his own.  
When he lights it, he leans closer to Aidan.

Aidan is slightly confused at first, but he then understands Richard’s intentions and he raises his cigarette.  
Richard lights it, his eyes fixed on Aidan’s lips as he inhales the smoke.  
Aidan swallows hard which makes Richard’s stare linger on his throat. His mind is almost blank, but he pretends Richard is not staring at him and he forces himself to collect his thoughts.

,,You...were great on stage,” Aidan produces finally.

Richard tilts his head and blows the smoke in Aidan’s direction before replying.

,,If I knew you were here, I would have tried harder.”

Aidan doesn’t know what he is expected to say, so he says nothing. He wonders why did he even stay here and he is really close to blurting ‘goodbye’ and running away but then, Richard is in his personal space and any coherent thought flees from Aidan’s head.

,,What are you doing here?” Richards asks again, voice low, his eyes flickering between Aidan’s eyes and lips.

Aidan wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and exhales: ,,I...I don’t know.”

Suddenly, Richard is even closer – too close, Aidan thinks.

Aidan’s heart is racing fast and as Richard leans in and kisses him, he almost fears it might explode. Aidan’s eyes stay open as a wet tongue licks along his lower lip and slides into his mouth.

Then Aidan tilts back.  
,,Don’t,“ he says, but Richard does. Aidan feels hot lips pressed hard against his own again. He jerks away and grabs Richard’s shoulders firmly.  


,,Why...why are you doing this?” Aidan asks, panting.

,,I want you. Now,” says Richard. He is not pushing boundaries – he is breaking them completely and burning them to ashes. 

And Aidan finds himself unable to resist any more. His head is spinning as their lips connect again, messier and hotter than ever before.

Richard grabs him and pushes him towards his car. Aidan feels his knees go weak, but Richard is there, holding him, steadying him against the vehicle as his hands try to find his way under the layers of Aidan’s clothes.  
Richard licks along Aidan’s jaw and bites his earlobe. The hot breath sends a wave of heat into Aidan’s groin and he has to restrain himself from moaning.

,,Let’s go to my place,” Richard suggest and bites on the soft skin beneath Aidan’s ear. Aidan nods hastily, desperately trying to catch his breath as he rushes into the car.

The minutes spent in the car seem infinite in Aidan’s mind hazy with lust. Then the car finally stop and Richard’s lips are on his own again, their tongues entwining passionately.

They stumble up the stairs to Richard’s house, unwilling to let go of each other’s body.  
Aidan thinks of nothing as Richard pins him against the wall and pulls off his clothes, almost tearing them apart in process. Only the burning desire is left in his mind and he knows only Richard can soothe it.

,,I...want...to...fuck...you.” Richard alternates his words with biting on Aidan’s neck and at that moment, Aidan loses it all.

He scratches and bites on Richard soft skin and he moans shamelessly as Richard presses harder against him, his hands trailing down Aidan’s body.

Everything is rushed and sweaty and too hot and Aidan thinks he might just die from the wild and rough pleasure.  
Then Aidan feels Richard’s hands around his neck and he almost cannot breathe and it feels incredibly good, too good. He cries out a strangled noise that is supposed to be Richard’s name and soon, Richard collapses next to him.

They are all sweat, sore muscles and hard breathing and Aidan thinks of nothing else than snuggling close to Richard’s warm body. 

He does, but something feels wrong. Richard’s body is stiff and as Aidan looks up for explanation, he sees Richard frowning.

There is something in his eyes that is impossible to misread and Aidan doesn’t even need to hear Richard’s words to understand it all. But Richard says it anyway and his words leave Aidan’s mind ice-like – clean and cold.

,,I think you should leave now.”

And without any word, Aidan does.

\---

Outside, only a few columns of sickly yellow light from the street lamps pierce the darkness. Aidan’s warm breath transforms into ephemeral steamy clouds and he shivers, wrapping his thin coat tighter around his body.

He must look piteous, Aidan realises, because when he passes by a homeless guy sitting on the pavement with an ugly dog, the man gives him a cheerful smile decorated with rotten teeth and he says: ,,Don’t be sad, sweetie.”

Aidan ponders it for a minute as he continues to walk. He tucks his hands into pockets and waits for the pain to appear. Then, he waits for any emotion whatsoever. In the end, nothing comes.

Aidan isn’t sad anymore. He is neither disappointed nor angry. Not even hurt.

He is just empty.

 


End file.
